


Art History Really Isn't All That Bad

by eddiewrites307



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: 'babe pls lemme cook good food for you', Art, College Student Will Graham, Hanni just wants to take care of Will, Hannibal Lecter is Not a Cannibal, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Language, M/M, Magical Realism, Pre-Slash, Statues, True Love's Kiss, Why Did I Write This?, Will Graham Has a Potty Mouth, good question, he's going through a lot rn, i guess??, it's a good fic tho I'm proud of it, its hard to be a cannibal when you're a statue, poor will tbh, probably the weirdest thing I've written in a while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24852850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddiewrites307/pseuds/eddiewrites307
Summary: When Will went to some art museum in order to do a project for a class he hated, he really didn't expect to be bringing home a statue. Especially not because he had kissed it and it came alive.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 19
Kudos: 187





	Art History Really Isn't All That Bad

Art history, as it turns out, was fucking terrible.

Look, Will was in no way artistic. He hated art. He only took this goddamn course to fill in some missing credits so he could get his forensic science degree. It was chosen in a fit of desperation. He deeply regretted it.

Will’s fucking pretentious ass art history professor decided it would be a great partner project to have students go to ‘lesser known’ art museums, pick a classical work, and do a shit ton of research on it in order to turn in a mediocre paper.

Fuck that guy.

So here Will was, partnerless because the girl who got stuck with him was sick, lurking around an art museum near closing time looking around desperately for some form of inspiration or connection or whatever.

Finally, something clicked.

There was a statue off in the corner. Will drew closer, hovering awkwardly as he took in the work. It was a man, all hard angles and muscle, a vastly superior look on his somewhat villainous looking face as he stared off into the far distance. In his hand he held a dagger, one that looked wickedly sharp despite being hewn from stone. Despite the threatening stance and features, something felt almost longing about the piece, as though the man was lonely despite his strength.

There was just something so painfully real about him.

Will snapped a quick picture with his phone, sending it off to Beverly, his partner, with a question mark. 

_ ‘Lol, nice, you found a hot statue! Bet you won’t take a pic of you giving him a little kiss ;) -B’  _ was the quick response.

Will sighed to himself. Beverly was so weird, but in a funny, cool way that made it seem endearing, as opposed to Will’s creepy kind of weird. Part of him really wanted to impress her, especially since she was one of the few people who didn’t actively avoid him. It would be funny to get that picture...wouldn’t it?   


Will looked around. It was a fairly run-down museum, so there were no guards or security cameras around, much less other attendees. It would be all too easy to peck the statue on his marble cheek, take a selfie, and be on his way.

He peered at the plate presenting the statue --  _ Neque Sanctiores Deos _ , whatever the fuck that means -- and stepped closer. Just a stupid little kiss…

He sighed, shook his head at his own stupid anxiety, and pressed his lips to the statues cold cheek, taking a quick selfie before stepping away again, turning away from the beautiful figure to text.

_ ‘Haha, if only he were real.’  _ Will sent back along with the picture, hoping it didn’t come across as too ‘eccentric and lonely in the really bad way’. It probably wouldn’t. Maybe.

He checked his watch, cursing loudly as he realized how long he had been loitering. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, but still, talk about a waste of time.

“Language.”   


Will nearly jumped out his damn skin as the sound of a heavily accented voice. He had thought he was alone in the display room, but apparently someone had very quietly walked in.

“Sorry, I just…” Will trailed off as he turned around, eyes going wide behind his glasses.

Holy fucking shit.

It was the statue. The statue had spoke, and was now fucking  _ moving _ , dust flying through the air and settling as the statue stretched its muscular arms and  _ stepped off the fucking pedestal _ , cracking its neck and sighing.

“Movement feels truly exquisite after spending as much time as I did standings idle,” the statue spoke again, examining its nails with a slight frown on its marble lips. Seriously, what the fuck was that accent, some kind of European? “Truly, one never understands the horror of being inanimate until one is forced to live it.”   


“Oh my- oh my god,” Will spluttered aimlessly, stumbling backwards, away from whatever the fuck was happening. “You- you fucking- oh my god.”

It was official. Will had lost his fucking mind. He was just as crazy as his peers always said he was. He had cracked. There was no fucking way that statue just came to life because- oh my god because Will had  _ kissed  _ it.   


“Oh my god,” Will repeated weakly.

The statue frowned at him with a disapproving air. “Your vocabulary is severely lacking,” it sniffed.

And boy, did  _ that _ snap Will back into reality. The next words came out of his mouth without him really even having to think about them. “Well fuck you too buddy, forgive me if I’m not completely desensitized to  _ pieces of fucking rock _ coming to life and scolding me for my language. Excuse the fuck out of me.”

It was a little heavy of the expletives, but hey, this was a highly stressful situation.

The statue's features smoothed, and it laughed a little, before inclining its head in a small bow. “Of course, where are my manners? I have yet to even introduce myself. My name is Hannibal. May I ask yours?” Marble eyes seemed to bore directly into Will’s own, the statue -- Hannibal? Really? -- now seeming more amused than condescending.

“Will. I’m Will,” he managed, staring curiously at Hannibal, who was now brushing dust off of the fabric -- stone?? -- covering its -- his?? -- groin. “I’m sorry, I gotta ask, but how are you, you know, moving? Talking?” He carefully avoided use of the word  _ alive _ , not sure if it would be deemed offensive or not.

Hannibal smiled at him, or rather, his lips curled very faintly. “Because you kissed me, dear Will. You ensured my livelihood, and now I will stay by your side for eternity.”   


“Awesome,” Will said blankly, mind spinning with millions of questions. “I now have a giant sentient rock as an eternal buddy. Great.”   


“I am not simply any old rock,” Hannibal huffed. “I am marble, delicately shaven to fit my artists desires.”   


“Still weird,” Will said dryly. “Look, Hannibal, I can’t just steal a statue, much less keep it. Where would you stay? People are bound to notice you.”   


“I fail to see why you can not, as you phrase it, ‘steal’ me,” Hannibal said thoughtfully. “Would it truly be stealing if I left of my own accord? Regardless, I would stay with you. In time, I will turn to flesh and blood, and with that I will join society, yet still be yours.”   


Will blinked.

Was he really about to steal a statue that had come to life? A weirdly attractive, extremely eloquent, kind of irritating statue?   


He sighed.

Yeah. Yeah, he fucking was.

“No one ever checks the side exits here,” Will said wearily, ignoring the pleased look on Hannibal’s marble face at his compliance. “There’s only ever workers at the main entrance. If we go through the sides and get to the street, chances are people will assume you’re some kind of performer, and we’ll be able to get you to my apartment with as little hassle as possible.”   


Hannibal’s eyes were much warmer than they should have been able to be when they regarded Will. “Thank you, sweet William.”   


“Yeah yeah. Just do me a favor, and leave the giant knife here. That’ll draw attention.”   


~   


Hannibal didn’t leave the giant knife, and it did draw attention.

“Nosy bastards,” Will muttered to himself as a gaggle of frat boys openly commented on Hannibal’s appearance, while the person/statue didn’t seem at all affected. If anything, he enjoyed it, preening anytime he got a bemused look.

“Are you already feeling protective?” Hannibal asked, seeming genuine, if one ignored the look of mischief in his eyes.

Will scowled at him, pushing up his glasses and dodging a slow moving pedestrian. “Yeah, right. Merely wishing I owned a damn car right now.”   


Eventually they made it back to Will’s shabby apartment, where he thankfully resided by himself. 

“Make yourself at home,” he muttered, throwing his backpack on the table and immediately rifling through it for some aspirin. His head was aching from all the insanity of the past hour or so.

“It’s quaint,” Hannibal said, seeming amused. “Cozy.”   


“It’s cheap.”   


Hannibal moved into the kitchen as Will sat himself in his oversized armchair, looking through the cabinets and fridge without saying a word. Will took a moment to silently contemplate just how his life had gotten so weird in the span of an evening, and exactly why he was able to handle it so well. Shock, probably. Adrenaline.

“Your food supply is lacking,” Hannibal said, coming to stand behind Will, resting his marble hands on Will’s shoulders. They were surprisingly gentle. “Perhaps that is the cause of your unhealthy pallor. Nutrition is important.”   


“Yeah well, I’m a student and work part time at a morgue, it doesn’t exactly pay well,” Will said roughly, trying his best to ignore the fact that he was relaxing under the statue's touch.

Hannibal tsk-ed. “There are always ways to eat healthy, even on a budget. I will compose a list of foods for you to buy, and I will cook.”   


Will twisted so he could look the other in the face. “Aren’t you a statue from forever ago? How the hell do you know how to cook, much less on a budget?”   


“I am cursed with knowledge,” Hannibal said vaguely, refusing to elaborate even under the scrutiny of Will’s best glare.

Man, there was something seriously unnerving about glaring at a marble face.

“Fine,” Will said tersely. “Be my chef, whatever makes you happy.”   


Those marble hands, which had never strayed from Will’s shoulders, began to massage in gentle circles as Hannibal hummed happily. Will allowed himself to fully relax under the ministastrations, eyes slipping shut as the exhaustion from the journey caught up to him.

“Rest, darling boy,” Hannibal murmured, and Will felt himself start to nod off. “We have the rest of our lives to learn one another. For now, you must sleep.”   


And he did.

~   


To Will’s credit, he only screamed a little bit when he woke up to a marble face watching him while he slept.

Hannibal smirked for the rest of the morning anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Hannibal's 'statue name' or whatevs is Latin for 'Destroyer of Gods' because his god complex amuses me.
> 
> Based off of a prompt I found by sweetanyways on Tumblr, who I highly doubted meant for their prompt to produce my specific brand of bullshit.
> 
> This was super fun to write tbh. As usual, comments and kudos are super super appreciated, and thank you so much for reading my work! Love y'all!


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